


Soul//Pulse//Warrior

by the_authors_exploits



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Prompt Fill, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 23:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10320251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: Anon said: I just heard this song Warrior by Paradise Fears and just immediately thought of Jay and Roy...





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Crossposted on ace--jace](http://ace--jace.tumblr.com/post/158458617509/so-i-know-youre-working-on-fatemates-right-now); [song here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kg1HTgzHruc)

_And lines got blurred_

Jason wakes and sometimes he wonders if he’s Robin today or if he’s Red Hood; he wakes and sometimes he wonders if he’s alive or if he’s dead. He wakes and sometimes he breathes the scent of his tulips on the windowsill, and sometimes he breathes the scent of smoke and burning skin…

_Somewhere in between my father’s son, and their twisted fantasy_

Jason wakes and no matter what, he gets up; he showers, he dresses, he eats, he brushes his teeth… He pulls a cap low over his head, tucks a gun in the holster hidden beneath his shirt, double checks his arsenal hidden in his boots and his pockets.

Jason wakes, he breathes, and he steps outside; Miss McDonna waves to him, her 2 year old granddaughter on her hip sucking her thumb and her four grandsons tugging on her dress. He pinches the young baby’s cheeks as he goes, gently, and smiles when she shrieks in laughter. Out on the street, he avoids the undercover cops trying to bring in some of the working girls; he loops Stardust’s arm with his and walks her to another street corner, kisses her on the cheek, and leaves her with a twenty dollar bill.

At night, he’s not lucky enough to avoid any of Gotham’s guardians; they lecture him, scold him, and Jason grits his teeth. They lie…or so he hopes…

_There’s a soul, there’s a pulse, there’s a warrior_

He goes home, limping on occasion; he showers again, inventories his arsenal, paces the chilled halls of the building, knocks on the single father Victor’s door, helps soothe his son to sleep so Victor can finish the dinner dishes and get a load of laundry going; he leaves them with a quiet smile, he checks the perimeter of the apartment building, then returns to his home.

He lays down, and he knows he’s not Robin, knows he’s not dead, knows he’s not breathing dying air… He cannot be Robin if there’s a red hood in the closet, freshly polished, and guns stashed safely away.

He cannot be dead if he feels alive when one of his neighbors brings him a lasagna, even though they can barely feed their own families; he cannot be dead if he feels his lips pull in a smile when Amy comes home from school with cut knuckles because she defended herself with a right hook Jason’s perfected. He cannot be dead if he’s uplifted.

He cannot be breathing dying air when he breathes in Gotham’s smog and hears his soul sing when he protects it, fierce and loyal and caring.

_So I let you in, but I’m so scared of what you’ll see_

Jason awakes and there’s an arm curled over his hip, hand brushing at the hem of his shirt that’s ridden up, asking for permission but not forcing; Jason laces their fingers and tugs the hand closer. Miss McDanno won’t worry if he’s a few minutes late to exiting his apartment; and if he just lays here, warm and safe and content, he can feel…

Something more powerful than anything else.

Except, it’s not always a peaceful event; sometimes the warmth comes after he’s returned covered in blood and still running the adrenaline high of anger. He fears this, when Roy slips the gun from his hands and gently pulls the helmet off; he fears what Roy sees. The Pit Madness, perhaps, or maybe Jason is just merely broken.

Mad; maybe he does belong in Arkham as Batman claims so often.

_And I need you_

And when the nightmares ruin his carefully organized mind, when he wakes up screaming or sometimes choking for air, he hopes Roy doesn’t see everything; he hopes he doesn’t see the madness, or the anger, or the hate, or the danger, or the murderous intent that runs in his veins.

He prays Roy sees something worth loving him, because Jason needs Roy; needs Roy’s soothing voice, soft but gruff. Needs Roy’s warmth, Roy’s kindness, Roy’s patience, Roy’s encouraging smile…

Jason needs Roy; and Roy?

Well, Roy doesn’t wake screaming; he doesn’t attack as viciously as Jason, but he can handle himself no matter what. Roy doesn’t shake, Roy doesn’t avoid mirror, Roy doesn’t count his scars to help him fall asleep…

Jason needs Roy; but…

_But I’m not so sure you need me_


End file.
